


We Found Each Other In The Dark

by theonewiththeeyebrows



Series: Little Hell - City and Colour [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 19:31:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1995162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonewiththeeyebrows/pseuds/theonewiththeeyebrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You aren't as discrete as you like to believe, you know."</p><p>"You didn't need to follow me like the creeper that you are, you know."</p><p>"I didn't-- I just wanted-- Scott's face fell when you left. I mean, I knew Scott was going to invite you. But I don't think any of us expected you to show up, and he was so happy when we heard your heartbeat. We didn't know if you'd-- It's been five years."</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Found Each Other In The Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Title from We Found Each Other In The Dark by City and Colour

Stiles slips out after Allison arrives, beautiful on her fathers arm in her white satin gown. He loosens his bow-tie, letting it fall open around his neck as he makes his way out of church. This is the same church his parents married in, the one that he used to dream he would marry in, the same church he said his final goodbye to mother in; it doesn't take him long to stumble his way around the back and into the adjacent cemetery. For a small town, the cemetery has a gigantic plot, and the sun just barely crosses over the horizon by the time he makes it up the hill to the walnut tree his parents rest under. He can hear the church bells ringing in the distance as he falls to his knees. _Scott is a married man._

"You okay?" A voice says from behind him, making him jump.

"Oh. My. GOD! You almost gave me a heart attack!" Stiles exclaims, clutching his figurative pearls. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be giving your best man speech?"

"The toasts aren't for another hour and a half. I saw you leaving. I just wanted to make sure you were fine."

"You saw me--" Stiles scoffs.

"You aren't as discrete as you like to believe, you know."

"You didn't need to follow me like the creeper that you are, you know."

"I didn't-- I just wanted-- Scott's face fell when you left. I mean, I knew Scott was going to invite you. But I don't think any of us expected you to show up, and he was so happy when we heard your heartbeat. We didn't know if you'd-- It's been five years."

"I think I _know_ how long it's been since my dad was _murdered_ while trying to protect your furry asses." Stiles growls, but his anger is short-lived as Derek's crumples beside him, devastated.

"I'm _so_ sorry, Stiles. You have to know I would give anything to go back and prevent that from happening." Derek's mouth quivers as he reaches for the hand that's resting on Stiles' knee before letting it fall between them, untouching. And the thing is, that Stiles does know. He knew five years ago, but he still couldn't handle being around them, around _Derek_.

"I'm sorry too. It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known. I'm just so-- I just-- I still miss him every single day, you know?" Stiles wipes furiously at his eyes, trying to stem the tears he hadn't realized he is crying. Derek makes a broken noise, because of course he knows what it's like to lose your whole family; the guilt at having survived everyone who was taken away, untimely. "And I do know. I've _always_ known." Stiles watches as Derek's eyes grow wide and he jerks his head up in surprise.

"But you--"

"I couldn't handle it. I knew at sixteen that I might not live to grow old. When my dad died, I realized I didn't want to _not_ live to grow old. It took me two years to get some semblance of self-preservation. But everyone has to get their shit together some time, right?"

"Things haven't been as messed up in years."

"I know. Lydia sends me manifestos once a month with updates on all you guys. At first I wasn't sure if it was just heavily censored for my benefit or not, but I can still hack into the BHPD database, so yeah."

They sit awkwardly next to each other for a couple of minutes, Stiles staring at the church from over his dad's headstone and Derek staring at his hands.

"So--" They both start at the same time, and Stiles gestures at Derek to continue first.

"When are you heading back?"

"I don't know yet. I got laid-off last week, and I've been living on my friends couch for the last month because I couldn't find a roommate for the new lease agreement. Which, in hind-sight, was probably a good thing. I wasn't really happy there anyways. Its really expensive living in Seattle without a job and my dad paid off the mortgage on the house here, so it is still in my name. I was thinking I might stick around here for a little while." Stiles pauses to see how Derek reacts, "A part of me is terrified to go inside. It hasn't been opened since I left."

"It's been taken care of."

"What?"

"Your house. It's been taken care of. While you were away."

"You took care of my house?" Stiles asks skeptically, left eyebrow rising in judgement. "Why?"

"It wasn't just me. Scott, Issac, Lydia, they all helped. It was done collectively."

"But why?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know! It's my damn house."

"I don't-- what do you want, Stiles? Do you want to know that we missed you? Every. Single. Damn. Day. That we hoped that one day, some day, any day, that you would forgive us? Forgive me? That being there helped us feel more like pack? That even though I am an Alpha and Scott is an Alpha, that we both felt like without you our packs were... _still are_ incomplete? Because none of that is a fucking lie." Derek takes a beat to breathe and he notices the sadness in the planes of Stiles' face. "And I'm sorry that I'm yelling at you. It's just a lot to process."

"I'm sorry." Stiles doesn't know what else to say.

"Is this how it's going to be? Us apologizing all the time and walking on egg shells?" Derek fists his hand through his carefully styled hair, making it stick out at odd angles.

"I'm sor--" Stiles smiles at him sheepishly as he catches himself mid-apology.

"I don't want that. I don't want to feel like at any moment something I say or do will make you leave. Because if you are even point-zero-zero-zero-one percent unsure about whether or not you want to stay, you need to let us know. I don't know if we can survive you leaving again."

"I--"

" _I_ can't survive you leaving again." Derek says meanly, cutting off whatever Stiles was about to say.

And just like that its out there -- everything they had ignored for the last six years; everything they had wanted but had been too afraid to want. And Stiles can't help the way he sways closer to Derek, hand falling heavily on Derek's shoulder, as Stiles rests their foreheads together, breathing heavy.

Stiles had come to terms with the enormity of his feelings a long time ago. After his third relationship had failed because 'he always seemed distracted,' he'd had a long conversation with his therapist in Seattle and had realized and soon accepted the standing Derek and the pack had in Stiles' life. But it hadn't made it easier to let things go. But the thought of being here, back in Beacon Hills, makes the part of him that had darkened and twisted just a little bit seem brighter and less warped. The thought of keeping the memory of his parents alive in the house they'd built together makes him feel like he could maybe start smiling again. The thought of being around Derek, even if he's not with him, makes him feel like he can accomplish anything. And he doesn't want to let that go. He's been too bitter, and dark, and twisted, and alone. He doesn't know how much longer he can live like that.

"I don't think I could survive that either." He whispers, pressing his lips firmly against Derek's. It's their first kiss, and it is awkward, leaning in the way he is, and their mouths are a singular point of contact till Derek's gripping Stiles' neck with a warm, broad hand and pulling him closer -- he stumbles into Derek and is dragged forwards with their combined momentum. Derek deepens the kiss when Stiles gasps from the shock of being upended, and Stiles gasps softly. It feels like hours have passed when they pull apart, breathless. Stiles flops off of the hard chest he's laying on and onto his back next to Derek. 

"Don't leave." Derek whispers brokenly, making Stiles turn to face him. He isn't looking at Stiles, but there's a single tear making its way into his hairline. Stiles reaches between them and tangles his fingers with Derek's. 

"Okay."


End file.
